


Conflicting Emotions

by Riddle_Me_This_Darling



Category: The Boys (TV 2019)
Genre: F/M, Heavy Angst, Sexual Fantasy, Sexual Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-05
Updated: 2021-01-05
Packaged: 2021-03-16 00:27:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28572993
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Riddle_Me_This_Darling/pseuds/Riddle_Me_This_Darling
Summary: Homelander watches Stormfront in disgust as she steals his spotlight, and wins the people's hearts for bravely defeating a terrorist. Struggling to contain his fury, we all know that hatred lies very close to...
Relationships: The Homelander | John & Stormfront
Comments: 6
Kudos: 12





	Conflicting Emotions

**Author's Note:**

> For my friend, Nancy.  
> WARNING FOR A SPOILER IN THE BELOW SENTANCE. If you haven't yet watched all of S2, I suggest you click away or else the 'big reveal' will be spoiled.
> 
> PSA: I do not condone fascism, and Stormfront is a disgusting, white supremacist Nazi. Homelander is a terrible homicidal sociopath. They're awful, but their actors are hot, and both did an amazing job at portraying these monsters. Basically, they're vile, but a disturbingly hot couple, and my pal, Nancy, asked me to write a brief story about Homelander battling with a hate/wish to fuck Stormfront.

Watching her made him feel sick. Stormfront was stood in front of the cameras, feigning sincerity with a seemingly humble smile, clapping while the crowd around her beams, applauding her brave efforts. One pathetic woman was even crying as she clutched her daughter tight, staring wide-eyed at the superhero before her.

It should be him standing on that fucking podium.

“Thank you,” Stormfront addresses her audience, both physical and the masses watching at home on their televisions. “But we all know who the real heroes of this group are, right?”

The crowd and camerapeople nod, and Homelander wants to rip their heads from their necks.

“The people you see behind you,” Stormfront continues. “The people who are struggling every day, so let’s give them all a hand.”

Oh, she’s good. The little bitch didn’t build up a loyal following for nothing, even before joining The Seven. She always knew what to say, what to do. All of it so calculated, he could tell. He played this game too, but she was beating him. Her numbers were rising, and all Ashley talked about was “Stormfront this and Stormfront that”, as though the other members didn’t even matter anymore. The fans – _his_ fans – cheered for this tiny being now; this manipulative wench. He felt like he was the only one who could see through the façade. She was aiming for his place, and she wanted to take over as leader. He sensed it the moment she waltzed over to him and Maeve, waving her little phone and mocking them for her little fans. Stan Edgar had the audacity to bring her in without so much as consulting him. Without so much as a suggestion? No, he simply allowed her to slither into the group, and now she’s taking the spotlight, and people are eating it up.

Glaring at her, it took all of Homelander’s strength not to obliterate her on the spot. To let his eyes shine red and laser off every single one of her limbs – to burn the eyes out of her sockets as he did to Stillwell. He could grab hold of her and show her how tiny and vulnerable she truly is, crushable in his hands. He’d like to wipe the permanent smirk off her face and watch her eyes widen in fear as he chokes the life out of her. The last words she ever whispers would be his name.

As his heart pounded in his chest, across the room, Stormfront locked eyes with his. She smiled smugly while she clapped, as though challenging him to react. Her eyes twinkled mischievously, all too aware that she had gotten under his skin. It made his flesh crawl.

“Oh, the things I’d do to you,” he thought darkly as he stared back at her.

He wanted to throw her against the nearest wall and watch her blood splatter across it like paint on a canvas. The pattern would be as beautiful as her. He wanted to hold her down and make her submit; to respect him as her leader. He wanted to run his tongue over his neck, and bite down on the delicate skin at her collarbone. He wanted to pull her hair, to peel her fitted uniform from her body, and push her to ground – and he could. He knew he could. She’d be no match for him; he was certain.

For the rest of the day, he heard her name everywhere. It was on the news; in Ashley’s mouth; social media; whispered amongst the staff at Vought. Her stupid, sly little face was plastered across posters and TV channels. He barely received a glance from anyone, except her. Her eyes would wander to his whenever she was near, and her gaze unsettled him.

Taking himself in hand later that night, Homelander pumped himself furiously as he flicked from photo to photo of Stormfront. In every one, she appeared so smug. Gritting his teeth, he wanked himself harder until his vision blurred, and all he could make out was her silhouette. He came to a scene of him easing his cock down her throat, and it was almost tender. She took him so well and looked so lovely from that angle. After she swallowed his load, he snapped her little neck.

“I’m in fucking charge!” he cried as his cum dripped over his hands.

_She’d submit to him one day._

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading.


End file.
